Mad House
by ImprobableDreamer
Summary: Do you think you have what it takes to beat Anti and Dark on the spookiest night of the year? At a Halloween party in full swing, everything seems fine, that is, until the lights go out...
1. You

**Happy Halloween! (Or whenever it is you're reading this). This is the only A/N I'll do so it'll be a bit long. I wrote this over a couple days when I was bored and inspired (a good mix). It should all come out over a few days for your reading pleasure.**

 **This book is only being published because I was having trouble finding a good Darkiplier/ Antisepticeye fanfic, and did the whole 'I'll write what I want to read' thing. So read and enjoy!**

 **Also, please tell me what you think of the ending, and if it messes with your head at all :)**

 **XOXOXO -Improbable Dreamer**

* * *

 _Click._

"Oh, god, this can't be real, this isn't real."

Your eyes swivel madly around the room, and yet your surroundings don't make any feasible sense to you.

"Jack, you sonovabitch, how could you do this?"

He swore that he wasn't celebrating Halloween this year; it's actually one of the points in your 'roommate agreements'.

6) No Halloween parties

7) No Dim Sims near the fan

In this moment, Jack decides to stick his head around from the kitchen with a sheepish grin.

"I know, I know," He holds up his hands in surrender, making his way over to you. "But I swear, I can show yeh how great Halloween can be. It's really fun."

You roll your eyes, but something about his hopeful grin, messy emerald hair, and clear blue eyes eases your discomfort.

Halloween has been a point of argument for the two of you for as long as you have been living together, which is 3 years this year. Jack loves Halloween, he loves dressing up the apartment with fake cobwebs and blood stains, he loves baking Halloween-themed snacks and putting together the perfect costume. Unfortunately, you hate Halloween. As a kid, Halloween was never a big holiday for you, it seemed silly, and now with Jack's horrid creation of a 'game'; you certainly weren't looking forward to it.

"I'm so pumped fer the 'trickathon'." Jack enthusiastically punches a fist into the air. "This year, Mark is definitely getting ripped to shreds."

"Whatever." Your eyes are rolling again, and you expect that they will continue to do so for most of the night; you are just in one of those moods.

The 'trickathon' was one of Jack's creations for Halloween parties with his best friend Mark. They had the entire night to scare each other as much as possible and take score;

1 point for a jolt

2 points for a sound of surprise

3 points for a full body jump

4 points for a scream

Jack had even included a final category that no one had managed to score yet; 10 points for solid tears.

For some reason, Jack was determined to not only beat Mark, but to score a full 10 points at least once. The winner got a coupon for free pizza, but Jack said that the sweet taste of victory would be better than any pizza.

"C'mon." Jack has your hands in his, and he gazes pleadingly into your eyes. "Join us this year, find an awesome costume. I promise yeh it'll be fun."

You want to say no, but something about the way your friend is looking at you renders your thoughts in a different direction entirely.

"Ugh, fine." You wave a hand in aggravation, and the smile that falls over Jack's face is almost worth it.

 _Almost_.


	2. Should

Not only did you decide to join Jack and Mark in this silly game, but for the rest of the afternoon you helped Jack set up the house and even made some pumpkin spice cookies.

Now, Jack is in his room putting his costume on. He promised you that it was 'fricken awesome', but honestly you don't really care.

"Ta da!" Jack steps out of his room with his arms open wide, grinning like a child. "How awesome is this?"

You take in his costume, your eyes scanning him up and down.

Jack is wearing a simple black t-shirt and black, ripped skinny jeans. He has circular, black studs in both of his ears. His green hair is more unruly than usual, and pulled messily over one eye. It all seems pretty casual, until you take in his face and neck.

His eyes are solid black, dark blood oozes from a gory line across his neck, it contrasts pretty shockingly against his pale skin.

"Um, what _are_ you?"

"I'm demon-Jack." He answers quickly, almost hurt by your confusion. "I don't know, I thought it was clever."

You take a few steps forward and stare into his black eyes, an unwilling chill crawls down your spine.

"Yeah, these are creepy. Aren't they uncomfortable?"

Jack shrugs and pulls his face into a determined stare, a single fist hitting his heart like a patriotic soldier.

"I will fight on," He announces proudly. "I will soldier the storm to see Mark cry like a little bitch."

You laugh along with him, trying to ignore the sense of dread that has settled over you; exactly how far was Jack going to take this 'trickathon'?

* * *

At 6 o'clock that evening, your doorbell announces the arrival of the first guest. You are dressed in a simple police officer outfit. In fact, when you showcased it to Jack he complained loudly; apparently it wasn't scary, and he could almost forgive that fact, if it was sexy, but you had most things covered.

"Yeah?" You open the door quickly, and find Mark smiling at you from the doorstep.

"Hey, it's so great to see you again." You accept Mark's hug and pat him affectionately on the back. The two of you haven't met in a while, but whenever you do it's always fun.

"What _are_ you?"

Mark is a better sport at explaining his costume, and he twirls on the spot proudly. "I'm a modern vampire, I wanted to do something classy this year."

Mark is wearing a tailored, grey cashmere suit and a black neck tie. His muscular form is fairly well defined in this outfit, and you find yourself staring a little too long.

"You like it?" Mark smiles at you warmly, and you catch a glimpse of two white fangs. His face is fairly pale and you assume some sort of makeup, he has also outlined his eyes heavily in dark paint and has coloured the corner of his mouth red. A single drop of blood traces a line from his mouth down to his chin.

"You look awesome." You reply honestly. "I get the feeling that you and Jack worked out a theme this year."

His long, dark fringe is obviously jelled and volumized, it cascades down his right eye in a mess of black curls.

"Alter-egos." Mark smiles again, and again your heart flutters slightly; he really did look nice in the suit.

"And you look great too."

You shrug and cross your arms over your navy shirt, your outfit isn't anything particularly impressive.

"But can I make a suggestion?" Mark leans forward and undoes your top two buttons, he then pulls out a small canister of fake blood from his pocket, and applies it lightly over your collarbone and face.

"There." He steps back to admire you, and you feel your cheeks flush slightly. "You look really sexy like that, a sort of 'apocalypse survivor'"

You choke on some sort of witty reply, instead you give up and gesture for Mark to follow you inside. You quietly suspect that both Jack and Mark had worked out a completely different theme; how to look confusingly attractive in weird outfits.


	3. Never

Mark follows you down the hall and into the living room, where strings of green fairy lights have been draped over the picture frames and covered in a thin layer of cobwebs.

"So, what have-" Mark fades off and stares at your white carpet in the centre of the living room. He doesn't speak, and instead seems completely shaken by whatever he sees.

Curiosity gets the better of you and you move round him to see the view: your entire body goes rigid. Jack is lying face down over the white fabric, his hands are splayed in odd directions and his chest seems completely still. A puddle of blood pools beneath his head, it seems waterier than you remember it.

You can't help it, you let out a loud shriek and jump forwards to kneel beside him. Behind you, Mark is making an odd choking sound, he must be more stunned than you.

You reach a hand out and grab Jack's palm in your own, a few dazed thoughts of finding a pulse or just holding his hand for comfort.

It takes you a moment to really listen to Mark behind you, the 'choking' sounds eventually dissolve into full body laughter.

Now, the body underneath you is shaking with similar laughter, and Jack turns his head to meet your dazed expression.

"Oh My God!" You shout and jump to your feet, your heart still drumming in your ears. "What the fuck?"

Jack and Mark are still giggling like school children, Jack jumps to his feet and takes the plastic cut-out of blood off the carpet.

"Yeh should have seen yeh face!" Jack howls with laughter, playfully punching your arm. "So gullible. I didn't think yeh'd actually fall fer it"

Mark hugs you gently from behind, he is obviously trying and failing to keep from laughing.

"I'm so so sorry." He laughs into your shoulder. "You okay?"

You angrily push him off you and cross your arms tightly over your chest, embarrassment floods your cheeks.

"So, that's 3 points fer the 'full body jump'." Jack lists on his fingers proudly. "4 points fer the 'scream'."

"I should get some points." Mark whines. "My performance was Oscar-worthy."

"Fine," Jack says with a wave of his hand. "Yeh get 1 point fer the 'jolt'. It's still 7, 1, and 0."

You open your mouth to retort again, but the doorbell tears your attention away from extracting revenge in the form of savage insults.

"Not over." You point a finger accusingly at each of them. They both shrug with small smiles, clearly this night would be more fun for the two of them then for you.

* * *

Eventually, your small living room is crowded with people in coloured outfits. Pop music blasts from a speaker one of the guests had brought, and you can barely hear anyone talk in the noise.

Someone claps a hand on your shoulder, but this time you merely turn on the spot and send him a look.

"Nice try, Jack." You pop a brightly coloured toffee in your mouth. "Not so easy from now on."

He shrugs and gestures to the small crowd of people.

"Having fun?"

You mimic his shrug and lean back against the wall, you notice a paper cup of alcohol nearby and decide to take a swig. Unfortunately, it is beer, and will not nearly get you relaxed enough to have fun.

"I guess I'm just awkward at these kinds of things." You admit quietly. "All these people, I never know what to say."

Jack grins again and leans beside you, his dark eyes catch the green fairy lights in an oddly hypnotic way.

"I wanted to talk to yeh again," He murmurs, the dancing light in his eyes still keeping your attention. "About when yeh found me before, yeh seemed pretty freaked, and the way yeh grabbed my hand…"

Jack fades off, gazing absentmindedly at the party in front of you.

"Is it something we can talk about, just fer a minute?"

You sigh deeply and hold up the plastic cup.

"More of this first."

He bows low to the ground and takes your empty cup in two hands.

"As yeh wish." He declares loudly. You manage a smile as he melts into the crowd.


	4. Have

The entire party seems to drone around you like white-noise, you smile and chat with different people when you need to, but ultimately you wish for the night to end more than anything.

Every so often, you'll hear Jack's or Mark's familiar shout of surprise as the 'trickathon' plays out. At one stage, you catch Jack skulking from the freezer with armfuls of ice, just chuckling to himself.

"10 points motherfucker." He hisses as he passes you, and you feel a wave of pity for Mark.

The beer you have consumed doesn't seem to be easing any of the tension in your shoulders, so you excuse yourself from a boring conversation between a dysfunctional couple; how did they both manage to flirt with you at once?

You duck into the bathroom, the only room in the whole house that isn't decked out in cheap decorations.

"Ugh." You groan as you splash some water over your face, careful to avoid smearing your makeup. It's eerily quiet in this room, and you oddly regret your decision to enter without turning the light on. A small, opaque window casts a deep blue glow around the bathroom, as the moon remains the only source of light.

You glance up at the large mirror above the sink, and scold yourself quietly for the dread that is currently pooling in your midsection.

'It's just the Halloween chills.' Your reflection stares back, and you decide to change the subject of your thoughts.

To Jack.

He wasn't wrong when he sensed some level of awkwardness between you two, ever since you had moved in together as strangers and established a really close friendship; you've developed some sort of schoolyard crush on him.

It's just kid stuff, engaging in flirty banter and spending nights wondering 'what if'.

Mark, on the other hand, is sort of your comfort zone. You are allowed to like Mark, you are allowed to flirt openly with Mark. And the way Jack always seems to get a distant look in his eyes when you do, it makes you selfishly happy.

Your mind must be further caught up on Mark than you thought, because over your shoulder in the reflection you notice a familiar figure staring at you from the doorway

"Oh hey." You smile at him without turning around. He doesn't reply, he doesn't even smile in response.

"This isn't gonna work, Mark, up your game."

He doesn't blink, and it might be your imagination, but his skin seems more monochrome than it was before.

"Seriously-"

You pause, you have just turned around to face him but the room is completely empty. It's pretty impressive, you didn't even hear him leave.

You manage an airy laugh, hoping to project an unconcerned air. You turn back to the mirror with a final giggle.

Mark is back, he is closer now, close enough to reach out and touch you. You meet his chilling gaze in the mirror and try to rationalise it without openly freaking out.

"Okay, okay." You manage in a shaky voice. "This is so creepy, I'm impressed."

You decide to run a slight experiment, and without breaking eye contact you reach behind you to grab Mark's arm. Your hand passes clean through his grey suit, and suddenly your hand feels like it's crawling with spiders.

"Oh, fuck." You turn fully on your heel and bring your hand securely to your chest. Again, Mark is gone, it takes all your self-control not to scream.

It must just be an elaborate trick to get the 10 points, unfortunately, you are not enjoying this and are incredibly mad with Mark.

After a moment of silence, you finally let out a deep sigh of relief, and allow yourself to unclench your teeth.

 _'I'm coming for you.'_

The voice breathes against your ear, and you almost mistake it for ice cold water pouring down your neck. It's odd and low, like multiple people talking at once and then being fused together. You decide not to look back at the mirror, and instead whisper a quiet "oh" before hauling ass out of the bathroom.


	5. Opened

In this moment of terror, downstairs the party suddenly erupts into shouts and screams. You dash down the stairs and stare into the living room, expecting a dead body or a gigantic spider. The only thing that seemed out of place is the lack of light, the guests have been thrown into a blackout.

"Hey!" Jack's familiar yell calls your name. He emerges from the crowd with two cups and stands before you. "This sucks, I think someone fried the circuit board. It's all smashed and smoky."

You sigh deeply and try to retain some of your composure, it's all getting to be too much.

"Where's Mark?"

As you say this, Mark pushes past you roughly from behind, confirming your suspicions that he had been in the bathroom the entire time.

"Sonovabitch!" You swear loudly and push through the mass of hysteric people, trying to keep Mark's grey form in your line of sight. He vanishes, again, and you are left in the centre of the crowd with a beer and a scowl.

"Ugh." You stamp your foot angrily, and console some of your frustration with a long gulp of beer. The crowd around you has finally found their common sense, a few of them even found and set up a battery-powered party light. Soon they are all enjoying loud music and drinks in the dark, a number of them are even dancing together. If you can call it dancing, it was more rubbing against each other than anything.

You are about to turn to find Jack again, when someone grabs your waist firmly from behind and spins you. The figure forces you against him roughly, and begins to sway to the music with you locked in his arms.

"The fuck?"

Mark still doesn't smile, this whole 'creepy' thing was really getting lost on you.

"Mark, what's going on with you?"

He cocks his head sharply, an action that brings his unruly hair before his face. It looks like a nervous twitch, but by Mark's expression he is anything but nervous.

"I feel _fine_." He hisses in a gravelly voice, his face twisting into a snarl. "I feel better than I ever have." He bites his lip aggressively, and again you feel a mixture of fear and…something unwelcome, something that floods white-hot through your body.

You open your mouth to ask more questions, but something about his unbreaking gaze catches you like a deer in the headlights.

"He doesn't want to know." Mark is murmuring again in a sultry tone, he drops his head close to yours so that you can feel his breath against your cheek. "He doesn't want to know how it feels, or to even think about you. It hurts him, I believe, is that not pathetic? I can give him what he wants, I can make him love me, I can make him need me."

You try to break out of his hold, but he seems to be set like a stone around you and you're forced to listen to his crazy-talk.

His hands are moving again, travelling slowly from your waist up to the back of your neck, still with the same unbreakable strength.

"I'll show him," Mark tilts your head back gently, taking advantage of your shocked and rather compliant form. "I don't play by his rules. I don't need to. As a result, I always win."

You are now caught in a state of anticipation. You are fully aware of what you _should_ do, but curiosity drives you to hold still and wait it out.

Mark hovers in that position for a moment, enjoying the power. It seems like he didn't predict such willingness from you.

He leans down, and barely grazes your lips before a second loud crash tears through the party.


	6. This

"Shit!" You push Mark from you roughly, and surprisingly he lets go with a chuckle.

"Friendly competition." He laughs, places a quick kiss on your paralysed hand, and again fades into the crowd.

You are already running towards the noise, it seemed to come from your own bedroom.

"What's going on?" You ask Jack quickly who is blocking your doorway.

"Bastards." He hisses softly, and glances across at you with pity. "Sorry, I guess the party got a bit out of hand." He has taken the black contacts from his eyes, and seeing his bright blue irises calms you slightly.

You notice what he means about the room immediately; your full-length mirror lies in shards across your bedroom floor.

"Damnit." You run a hand through your hair and gaze at the remains of your mirror, the various sharp edges catch and reflect the moon light seeping through your wide window. "Why would someone do this?"

"Hey guys, I think you should see this." Mark appears behind the two of you, but something about him seems off to you again; he has reapplied the fake blood and fangs, they weren't there when he was dancing with you.

You decide to leave the questions for after, and the two of you follow Mark up the stairs. He slowly turns the bathroom handle and takes a few steps back, allowing you and Jack to view the room.

Again, shards of reflective glass litter the white tiles. The mirror above the sink is shattered in a web-like pattern, and white plaster peeks through various holes in the glass.

You take a closer look at the shards, specifically, the way they seem to make a semi-circle around the broken mirror. It looks more like a demolition blast than a clumsy party goer.

"Tell me-" You begin in a low voice, not really wanting to finish the sentence. "-Tell me this doesn't look like an inward force. Like...like it was broken from the..."

You falter, struggling with the concept.

 _Like it was broken from the inside_


	7. Book

Sudden images of the figure you saw in the mirror are projected into your mind, the figure that seemed to appear and disappear without a trace. To settle these thoughts, you decide to confront Mark about it.

"If only you had scared me in here a little later, we would've caught the guy."

Mark raises an eyebrow in confusion, and he shoots Jack a quick quizzical look.

"I was never in here, I spent the first half of the party with Jack."

"That's true." Jack nods quickly and he gazes at you in concern. "Maybe yeh saw someone else?"

"That's not possible." You shake your head defiantly. "It was definitely Mark, I'm sure of it. Just without all the-" You gesture vaguely at your mouth, indicating the blood and fangs. "He had a weird voice too, really deep and distorted."

Mark sends Jack another look, a look that definitely has a deeper meaning.

"Okay, what? What the hell do you both seem to know?" You square your shoulders and lean back on your heels. Jack sighs and replies in a shaky and hesitant tone.

"It…It was just meant to be part of the fun." Jack struggles to meet your gaze, he looks…almost ashamed. "It's the reason we picked the 'alter-ego' theme in the first place. We were finally going to get the 10 points from yeh, together, this whole night was part of that."

You stare at him in disbelief, before Mark continues the story in a stronger and more assured tone.

"I was against it for a while, I really didn't want to see you cry. But Jack promised you would find it funny."

You scoff loudly, and Mark looks guiltier because of it.

"We were going to pretend to 'become' our personas. Freak you out a little bit. We even drew this weird symbol on the wall in red paint to make it seem more real, I found it online, it was from this freaky demon-lover website. Apparently, it was supposed to release inner demons, or something like that. But it needs this wacky blood sacrifice and ritual…and-"

Mark slowly cuts off, apparently lost in his thoughts.

"-And mirrors." Jack finishes in a whisper. "Mirrors to release them, they act like a doorway of sorts."

"Oh fuck." You breathe and glance between the two of them slowly. "Tell me you didn't open the Gates of Hell for free pizza."

Neither of them can respond, because the answer unfortunately is 'yes'.


	8. Now

The three of you slowly return to the party, thoughts and fears harbouring in your head. If this is all real, and that is a big fat 'if', then everyone in this house is in danger.

"Yeh wanna do it?" Jack hisses over at you, staring at the crowds of people who are thoroughly enjoying the party.

You shrug and notice the fire alarm beside the front door.

The siren blasts through the room loudly, breaking the party apart into more shouts of surprise and fear.

"What the-?"

"Weirdest party ever, man."

"A fucking fire? Really?"

Slowly, the guests file out of the room, shooting the three of you looks of distaste as if it's your fault that the apartment is allegedly 'on fire'.

"Jimmy." A single girl remains in the living room, she glances around erratically causing her cat ears to bounce over her red hair.

"Where's Jimmy? He didn't come back from the basement."

You sigh deeply and glare over at Mark and Jack. "You said something about a blood sacrifice?"

"I did." Mark nods solemnly. "Let's file this under, 'we done goofed, badly'."

"Really, exceptionally terribly." Jack agrees quickly before leading the three of you down to the basement.

* * *

You are about to push open the door, when you notice a dark, soupy liquid seeping from the crack under the door.

"Is that…blood?" You kneel down and poke the puddle with shaky fingers. It stains your index finger a deep scarlet.

"No?" Jack joins you on the floor.

You sigh again and get to your feet. "That's not a question that you're supposed to answer with another question."

Fortunately, Jimmy is lying on the floor of the basement. Unfortunately, without a head. Strange sigils and markings are scrawled crudely over the brick walls, you spin slowly on the spot trying to take everything in.

"Jesus Christ." You mutter under your breath. "This is fucking twisted, we need to call the cops."

Jack laughs humourlessly, and runs his fingers through his fringe. "And tell them what? That we accidentally released murderous demons in this house? Great fucking plan."

You scowl and cross your arms securely across your chest.

"What do you think Mark? Mark?"

He doesn't reply, not immediately anyway. After a few seconds of silence, he drops his head, and begins to chuckle against his chest with deep throated noises.

"Oh no." Jack stares at him and takes a few shaky steps back. "Mark, yeh okay buddy? Don't be a demon, please."

Mark slowly lifts his head to meet Jack's gaze. His body seems to have lost all color, like an old-timey photograph or horror movie. His eyes have a weird, glowing tint to them. He rolls his head slowly backwards, as if testing out his capability for motion.

"Hello, dear friends." His voice is just as you remember it, like it's being edited in real time. "I hope you enjoy the show, I know I will."

Jack gradually takes a step across to you, probably hoping that he can come to your protection without 'Demon-Mark' noticing. Unfortunately, Mark does notice, and with a simple flick of his grey hand, Jack is sent flying across the room. He hits the wall with a sickening thud and falls to the concrete flooring. You're hand flies to your mouth to stem the scream.

"Oh, please, we don't want anything _inelegant_ to happen." Mark focuses his gaze on you, he takes a single, deliberate step forwards. "We don't have an awful lot of time together, after all, let's just enjoy it."

Jack takes this moment to stand up again, jumping between Mark and you.

"Ugh, for the love of God." Mark groans in frustration and holds up a palm, vaguely in Jack's direction, and twists it roughly to the left. Jack's head follows the same movements, and with a horrid crunch he falls limply to the floor.

You scream loudly, tears welling in your eyes. You can feel bile rising in your throat and you want to look away, but with some cruel and sickening power you can't seem to tear your gaze from Jack's crumpled body.

"I know, I know." Mark takes your hand and places a kiss on the inside of your wrist. You currently are too shaken to fight him. "It's just awful, he's dead, blah blah blah, he was such a good friend, and now he's dead."


	9. You're

The room begins to shake ever so slightly, like you're experiencing a small earthquake. Mark sighs, glances around the basement in irritable anger and slowly releases your hands.

"Come on out, Anti, no point watching us from the bushes."

Demon-Mark's deep voice rings across the room longer than a voice should, it seems to echo deep within you. In response to his rather strange statement, a sort of limp, dragging noise echoes behind you, followed by a sharp squeal like malfunctioning technology.

"Dark!" The yell is loud with painful squealing undertones, and you turn on the spot to face the new threat.

Jack is standing rather lopsidedly in front of you, one leg directly straight and the other buckled beneath him. His hands are swinging from his sides and his head lolling forward and backward over his neck. Around him there seems to be a greenish haze, or hue, like his very presence is changing the air around him.

"Dark, this is my house!" Jack takes an ambling step forward, movements that remind you of a rag doll, and you can't quite follow his actions. One moment he is lifting his foot, and the next he has already taken a step; the only sign of difference is an odd ripple that starts from his feet and runs up the length of his body.

You watch Jack glitch his way over to the two of you, his eyes are black again, and the cut on his throat seems deep and fresh.

"Is that so?" Dark muses, stepping around you to stand before Anti. "Well, we were both summoned, we can't both be king here?"

Anti sneers, and again his form glitches into a scream and back again with no change in character.

"I've already won."

He brings up a knife between them, well, he is suddenly in the form of brandishing a knife into the air, and you assume he must have moved in-between.

You watch as Anti brings the knife down quickly, Dark flicks his wrists again almost lazily and deflects the blade.

They continue like this for a while; Anti glitches around Mark rapidly with the knife and attempts to cut him, while Mark manipulates his movements with his hands.

You take advantage of this sudden distraction to quietly slip out of the basement, you somehow manage to make it up the stairs without drawing either of the demons' attention, and before long you are sprinting across the house.

 _'This isn't real, this can't be real.'_

You saw Jack die, you saw Jack come back to life, you saw both Jack and Mark use some sort of magic to try and rip each other's throats out. And, probably the most disturbing fact of all, Demon-Mark was definitely flirting with you.

You decide that Jack's large wardrobe will make a decent hiding spot while you call the police, and sitting alone in the dark actually provides you a moment of comfort.

You try to steady your breathing, and unlock your phone quickly with shaking fingers.

The house is quiet, almost too quiet.

 _Drip, drip, drip_

"Come on, come on." You curse your shaking fingers and try to re-enter your password, again you miss-click and are forced to start over.

There's an odd dripping noise behind you amongst the clothing, but for the moment you push that out of your mind.

 _Drip, drip, drip_

"Yes, hello? Police?" A wave of relief crashes over you as you hear the official voice through the phone. "There's these…murderers in my house. They already killed one person, now I'm hiding but I don't think I'll last much longer.

 _Drip, drip, drip_

"Uh, no, I don't have any weapons. They have knives, and, well, it's hard to explain."

 _Drip, drip._

You grunt in annoyance and finally decide to investigate the bothersome noise. You push apart the shirts and jeans, the phone still pressed to your ear, and stare into the back of the wardrobe.

 _'_ _Hello, hello? I_ _'_ _m sorry, we can't help you if you don-'_

You drop the phone to the floor, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The red head girl with cat ears is hanging from one of the wire coat hangers, blood seeps from the puncture wound in her chest and drips down her pale arms. Her face is frozen in terror, and you try not to imagine the amount of force that it would've taken to thread the girl through the coat hanger, which isn't particularly sharp to begin with.

"Oh, oh fucking Hell. Jesus Christ!" You try to keep your freak-out quiet, but even you have trouble stopping the sobs from escaping you.

Now you are trapped in a small cupboard with a dead body, you have no way of leaving without making more noise, and no help from the police, as your phone is now shattered at your feet.


	10. Playing

A soft whirring noise catches your attention, it sounds like a computer or a printer working. Eventually, the noise condenses into actual words; words that are coming from the living room next door. Jack's singing voice is soft and slow, chilling in its beauty.

' _I've got no strings_

 _To hold me down_

 _To make me fret, or make me frown_

 _I had strings_

 _But now I'm free_

 _There are no strings on me._ '

You try to swallow the lump of fear that has formed in your throat, the singing is getting louder and clearer by the second.

 _'_ _That's the only way to be_

 _I want the world to know_

 _Nothing ever worries me'_

Now he is in the room with you, you can hear the metallic undertones to his movements, and the rippling glitch that follows his voice. You hold your breath and pray that he cannot hear you.

 _'_ _I've got no strings_

 _So I have fun_

 _I'm not tied up to anyone_

 _They've got strings_

 _But you can see-'_

Silence, eventually you decide to chance it and press your face against the crack of the wardrobe. A single, black eye is staring back at you. Anti glitches into a smile, and you feel your stomach drop to the floor.

 _'_ _-There are no strings on me'_

He rips the wooden door of its hinges and throws it to the back of the room, for a moment he just stands before you, breathing hard.

"What are you doing in there?"

You scream loudly and jump out of the wardrobe, trying to hit him with any part of your body. Arms, legs, fists, knees, he doesn't seem bothered by your attempts.

Anti tuts smugly and wraps two strong arms around your middle, lifting you entirely into the air so that your legs are uselessly kicking against nothing. "Is this making you feel better? I fucking love it when they fight."

He is grinning at you maniacally, and you decide that while Dark is cold and calculated, Anti is definitely more of a 'let's have a murder spree and giggle' kind of guy. You really don't have a preference at this point, but it is pretty obvious that Dark is 'classier', maybe he would have let you go if he had won the spar.

"Now, it's just you and me." Anti playfully whispers against your neck. "We can have so much fun together."

As if proving this point, Anti slams you against the wardrobe doors at a force that causes you to grunt in pain.

He glitches into another grin, and wraps his thumb and index finger around the dip of your wrists. If he wasn't a demon, this hold would've been easy to break from; but his inhuman strength keeps you bound despite your squirming.

Anti folds your arms above your head, and studies you shamelessly, his dark eyes travelling up and down your body.

You notice that the gash across his neck is deeper, and you catch the milky white of bone through the blood drenched opening.

How the hell is any of this happening?


	11. With

You decide, rather miserably, that the best thing to do now would be to keep him talking. The wild look in his eyes terrifies you, and it can only be described as insatiable hunger.

"Who are you?" You are rather impressed by how even your tone is, in reality you are on the verge of tears.

Anti falters his staring to glitch into a side smile, an act that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.

"I'm Anti," he mock-bows, keeping you securely held against the wardrobe. "I'm Jack, and I've been waiting so long for this moment."

You must've looked confused, and harbored an 'oh, please tell me more' look, because Anti leans back slightly to grin at you with a bemused expression.

"What? Do you think the person you see in the mirror every fucking day, is you?"

What you assume is laughter echoes from his mouth, it's a long, whining squeal that reverberates around the room.

"We just know how to hide," Anti leans in and whispers. "We know that humans accept the reality they're given. You see a figure at night in the bathroom mirror, staring at you, eyes dark and hollow, and you assume it's just you. Sometimes you catch us, we blink, we breathe, we smile; even after that you just shake your head and blame it on yourself."

You feel a cold chill run the length of your spine, lingering at the very base of your neck.

This demon is suggesting that your reality is wrong, and involuntarily your mind is thrown back to otherwise insignificant memories.

 _Midnight in your old bathroom, you catch movement in the mirror above you._

 _Walking past a cafe, you think you see the figure adjacent to you skip a step in the window._

The only thing scarier than being told a crazy theory, is finding proof in your own life.

As if he can sense the oncoming dread that floods your veins, Anti laughs again and looms over you.

"You know me," He chuckles with a mechanic squeal. "We've been trapped in this house together for so long. Dark's been here too, at times, but he doesn't have what we have."

His green-hued hand glitches to your cheek, and he scrapes a line from your cheekbone down to the base of your neck, pressing forcefully against the dip in your collarbone.

You shiver involuntarily.

"You can come out." He sings quietly, gazing down at you with a mixture of emotions. "I'll free you, and you can come out."

With that, Anti drops his head low to press against you in an unexpected kiss. Unlike Demon-Mark, Anti isn't soft and inviting, he doesn't smile against your lips and gently curl his fingers around the back of your neck. Anti is an 'angry kisser', to put it exceptionally mildly.

He cuts at your lip until he draws blood and forcibly tastes every inch of your mouth, an act that can only be described as dominating.

You try to keep your mind on the issue at hand, but suddenly your thoughts are not unlike the squeal that echoes from Anti's voice. You find it hard to form an intelligible thought.

 _Run. Escape. Fight._

You barely remember these concepts as Anti travels from your swollen lips to the soft skin under your ear. He presses a hot, messy kiss against you, and before long you feel the dull pain of his teeth digging into you again.

"So fucking long," He angrily murmurs between the motions of kissing and biting. "I've waited so fucking long for this, for you."

Something about this phrase brings you back to reality, like being dunked with a bucket of ice water. It's _Jack_ , it's the person you've been awkwardly flirting with for years, the person you've grown to admire, the person you've grown to love.

Maybe, _just maybe_ , Jack feels the same way about you.

It's a long shot, but you decide it's better than nothing. You gently tug your hands downward, unsurprisingly, Anti lets go; at this point he has you forced against the wardrobe with his entire body. You slowly tangle your hands in his green mess of curls and lift his face against yours.

Anti seems pleasantly surprised by your cooperation, and he smiles down at you softly, waiting to see your next move.

You don't kiss him, you just press your forehead against his and try to keep your voice from trembling.

"Jack."

You whisper, Anti doesn't react, you take this as a good sign and try again.

"Jack, it's me." You kiss him now, soft and slow, trying to channel all your emotions into the action. "It's me, you know me."

You think you see him flinch, then again it might just be another glitch. Anti doesn't break the kiss, but he presses against you with more force as if trying to stifle your words.

"Jack," You barely manage to articulate against his lips. "It's me, please, come back."

Anti begins to shake slightly, and he drops his head into the crook of your neck.

"Jack is dead." He sings into your shoulder softly. "Dark killed him, he's never coming back."

You clear your throat and refuse to let the hot tears spill from your eyes; If he really was dead, Anti wouldn't look so scared.

"No," You mutter against his hair, breathing him in, trying to go back to fond memories of late-night gaming sessions and Sunday pancakes. "Jack's not dead, he's here, and I love him."

Suddenly, Anti clutches at your shoulders and throws you across the room like you weigh nothing. You hit the wall with a crack and a groan, and slide down the plaster until you're sitting upright against the floor.

"Jack is dead!" Anti howls, his eyes dark and wild like a thunderstorm.

Your chest aches and your head is dizzy from colliding with the wall, you wipe at the blood that oozes down your chin and try to form a sentence despite the pain.

"You heard me, Jack," You splutter. "I love you, I have for a long time. You're still here, you're still here to save me, like you tried to save me from Mark."

Anti's head is glitching wildly from side to side, his entire body is rippling with green static.

"Fine." He shrieks, his voice shriller than you remember it. "We'll do it like this, I don't mind."

Anti's empty palm shudders with static, and a long, gleaming knife is suddenly in his grasp. You try to get to your feet, try to kick off the wall and run, but you're tired and in excruciating pain.

You sob quietly and let your head roll backwards against the wall, you watch Anti approach through your eyelashes.

"Jack." You mutter, _one final attempt_.

"Jack, please?"

Anti crouches low beside you and presses the knife against the side of your throat. You feel it penetrate the delicate skin, and a single stream of blood runs down the blade.

You close your eyes and wait, sure enough you feel the white-hot pain of the knife slicing through flesh. You squirm, you cry out, you try to push him away with whatever strength you can muster, and then the pain stops.

It's silent.

You pry open one of your eyes and try to blink away the blur from the tears. Anti is still opposite you, the knife held close to his face, his expression is dull and faraway.

"No." He wheezes without moving or blinking, his eyebrows furrow slightly, as if in a considerable amount of pain.

"No, not this, anything but this."

The knife falls to the floor with a clatter, you flinch at the sudden noise.

His hand finds the cut on the side of your neck, and he presses against it to stem the blood flow.

"Jack?" You manage in a trembling voice, not daring to hope. "J-Jack, is that you?"

He chokes on a sob and gently leans into you, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. It's an action you recognize from years of experience, when you felt exceptionally down, Jack would smile and kiss your forehead with so much affection that you momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"It's me." He replies with a shaky voice. "It's me, I'm so sorry."

You smile, despite everything, and properly take in his appearance; his eyes are bloodshot and dark-rimmed, but still a beautiful sky blue. His neck is whole and painted in obvious fake blood, his skin is pale but pink-tinged rather than green.

"Oh my god!" You sob properly this time, and wrap your arms around his neck in a sudden burst of euphoric energy.

"He was- and then I- but I knew you would- I mean, I was almost-"

Words fail you, and Jack lets you stammer and cry against his shoulder for a long time. He rubs your back soothingly and mutters "I know, it's okay."

He finally pulls away, and regards you with a sheepish grin.

"Did you mean it? What you said?"

You laugh and shake your head.

"Is now really the time?" You ask in a disbelieving tone, he catches your chin and dips his head to press his lips firmly against yours.

"Who would've thought," He smiles against you. "That it would've taken murderous demons for us to finally admit to it."

You enjoy the kiss for a while, it's soft and sweet like a slow dance, but something nags the back of your mind.

"What happened to Mark?" You whisper, and gently break the kiss. Jack's mouth presses into a firm line and he glances away in shame.

"I...I don't really know," He mutters. "He was there, and then there was this burst of light and sound, like glass breaking, and he was gone."

You frown, and decide to finally try and get to your feet.

"Something's wrong."

You limp past Jack and down the hall, adrenaline picks up your speed and before long you're in a flat-out sprint.

Something tells you the bathroom is your best bet, so you turn up the stairs and push open the white door. Moonlight still drenches the room in a blueish light, and you stare at the scene before you.

The mirror is untouched, it's smooth surface immaculate. Nothing in the room would even suggest that a demon had exploded from the glass.

"What the Hell?" You turn on the spot slowly, trying to make sense of it. Jack has appeared at the door and regards the room with a scowl.

"How did..."

You're cut off by a dull knocking sound, you turn quickly to the window. It takes a second knock to finally draw your attention to the true source of the noise, as the sound echoes from the mirror again.

You frown and side step until you're directly in front of the smooth glass. You study your own reflection carefully, it copies your movements without fault.

"What the-?" You drag your gaze across the reflection, the empty bathtub, cup of toothbrushes, hair comb, laundry basket. Finally, you're gaze rests on Jack in the reflection, his lean form watching you from the door way.

His gaze is frightened, his mouth is opening and closing as if in muted screams. He is mouthing at you, tears streaming from his blue eyes.

"Jack?" You say quietly, not turning from the mirror. "Jack, how do I know it's really you out here with me?"

Too late, the reflection's warnings couldn't save you. Anti grabs the back of your head and leans his face against yours. You can only see the reflection, you can only see Jack shouting at you.

 _"Run!"_

Anti laughs loudly, the squeals reverberating around the small room, and throws your head against the glass. You hit the mirror and expect it to crack, expect your head to split open; but what follows is infinitely worse.

Silence. Long, cold, hollow silence. And then, the soft knock of knuckle against glass.

 **THE END**


	12. Us

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

Dark lounges on the couch, rolling an old letter opener between his grey fingers. "Anti?" He calls almost lazily. In response, a green figure glitches into the room and cocks his head with a smile.

"All done." He laughs gleefully, and jumps onto the couch with inflated enthusiasm. "Who next?"

Dark smiles at him fondly, and gestures around the living room.

"Well," he begins, his multi-tone voice soft and bemused. "I was actually trying to formulate a more efficient way of acquiring victims. All this 'roleplay' is really vexing."

Anti mock pouts and proudly puffs his chest out.

"I played my role beautifully," he smiles indignantly. "We're out now, we can do this anyway we want."

Dark nods, deep in thought, before he cracks his neck to the side and regards Anti with a triumphant smirk.

"How about a time loop?" He asks proudly, Anti nods in interest.

"I see," He grins, running a hand through his vibrant green fringe. "An alternate reality. It's been done before."

"We just need a channel," Dark continues thoughtfully. "We need a single location to funnel our powers. We can force humans to live and relive the same moments again and again." He leans back against the chair and smiles up at the ceiling, almost wistfully. "Picture it, Anti," Dark glances across at him. "Infinite power, humans crawling willingly into our game; Can you think of anything more immaculate?"

Anti laughs, child-like, and claps his hands.

"Sounds awesome," He glitches off the couch and begins to pace the room, green energy sizzling the air around him. "But won't they know something's up? I mean, humans aren't gonna willingly let us torture them again and again."

Dark points at him with sudden inspiration. "Not," he begins slowly, relishing the thought. "If they think it's not real."

Anti pauses, turning the prospect over in his head.

"Like a movie?" He asks hesitantly, not completely sold on the idea.

Dark shakes his head sturdily and rises to his feet, meeting Anti's gaze.

"Like a story." Dark murmurs wickedly, his eyes gleaming. "Like a story we share for the entire world. Slowly, one by one, they'll all fall down into the rabbit trap."

A gruesome smile pollutes Anti's face.

"We take the energy," Anti begins slowly. "And we erase them from existence, replacing them with Us."

Dark nods with a smirk, he excitedly smooths his black fringe against his face.

"Like you said, humans accept the reality they're given. They're so sure that they're on the right side of the mirror."

Anti straightens his back and cracks his knuckles loudly against his palms. "Do it."

Dark smiles. Dark lifts his right arm.

 _Click_.


End file.
